


Rubik's Cube

by FluffyBeaumont



Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: Caring, Eventual Romance, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, Happy together, Healing, M/M, Reunions, Saul and Jesse Have History, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyBeaumont/pseuds/FluffyBeaumont
Summary: Saul gets Jesse out of ABQ just in time. Jesse rescues him right back.
Relationships: Jimmy McGill | Saul Goodman/Jesse Pinkman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Rubik's Cube

…and in those final few moments, when it’s all going to shit and there’s nothing he can do about it, he reaches down into the bottom drawer of his desk (it’s not going to be his desk for much longer) and takes out a gun. The kid staggers back, his eyes going buggy with what’s got to be fear, hell, what else can it be? “No, nothing like that. Here, take it.” He waves it at him, butt first, not entirely sure the safety’s on. What the fuck does he know about guns? Not a goddamn thing.

The kid takes it and sticks it down the back of his pants. Probably saw somebody do that once in a movie, thought it looked cool. “You know, I shoulda said before—”

”Not now. There’s no time. Look, you called the number I gave you, right? And you know what to say.” He’s sweating. There’s beads of sweat forming on his top lip, a long drool of it slipping down between his shoulder blades. He just wants to get the hell out of here, so why is the kid fucking around like this, when there’s no time, goddammit there’s no time.

“Yeah. I need a new dust filter for my Hoover MaxExtract PressurePro model 60 - can you help me with that?” He blinks at Saul, all big blue eyes and sweetness; he’s so goddamn pretty it breaks Saul’s heart. “Right?”

“That’s perfect. Now go on, get the hell out of here.” He turns away, drops to his knees to fumble with the secret panel in the wall, but the kid didn’t listen. He’s still standing there. “What?”

“I shoulda said before.” He swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m sorry I hit you, that time. You’re the only person who ever gave a damn about me.” Blinking hard and fast like he’s trying to stop from crying, as if Saul is even worth crying over. “You’re the only person who ever did anything for me.”

Saul stands up. “I don’t have _time_ for this! Jesse, just take your gun and go. Get out of here before—”

Get out of here before it’s too late. Get out of here before Walter White shows up and shoots both of us dead, before the police and the DEA put the pieces together, turn the whole fucking mess click-click-clicking into place like the panels of a Rubik’s cube. Get out of here before… But it’s like slow motion, Jesse sliding into the space between Saul’s spread arms, clasping Saul’s face between his palms and pressing his warm and open mouth to Saul’s and kissing him.

 _Kissing_ him, with his whole heart, his entire body, like he means it, like he really goddamn means it. And Saul is kissing him back. Jesse steps away, gazing up at him. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

”Probably not, kid. Best case scenario, I end up running a Cinnabon in Omaha.” He’s trained himself not to feel any kind of sentiment but just now he can’t help himself. He reaches out and strokes Jesse’s cheek, the tips of his manicured fingers catching on stubble. “Come and find me, huh?” He laughs because it’s so not funny that it is.

A year and some later – it’s hard to know how long exactly because Saul, formerly Jimmy and now Gene, opens the door of his bland and faceless townhouse in goddamn Omaha with his heart banging off his ribs because who knows who’s at the door, it could be anybody, the police, the DEA, someone finally wanting their pound of flesh.

”Hey.”

He’s thinner, older – Jesus, he’s _aged_ the way people do who’ve had horrible, unspeakable things done to them, and there are scars on his face. “Jesse.” The gladness, the absolute joy Saul feels takes him by surprise and he surges forward, reaching for him, hauling Jesse into his arms and holding him so tight…he can feel Jesse’s heartbeat against his own, thrumming in his chest like a trapped bird.

“Rubik’s Cube,” Jesse murmurs against Saul’s shoulder. He’s still standing in the open doorway, unable or unwilling to move, and he’s holding Saul just as tightly, so tight it almost hurts. He leans back far enough to see Saul’s face and then he’s kissing him, and the kiss is hot and wet and so _so_ good, Saul’s knees are buckling like this is a goofy late-night rom-com where the hero finds himself at last redeemed by love.

“What are you talking about?” Saul asks, when his mouth is free. He reaches around Jesse and shuts the door, draws him farther into the house, into the warmth and safety.

“Sometimes it all clicks into place,” Jesse says. He cups Saul’s face between his hands and kisses him again, very gently. “Like a Rubik’s Cube.”

“Yeah.” It feels good to smile. Saul hasn’t smiled in a very long time. “Like a Rubik’s Cube.”


End file.
